


Whatever else is unsure…

by write_light



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chance Meetings, Gen, M/M, Mother's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_light/pseuds/write_light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claudia Stilinski met Talia Hale exactly twice. You can say things to a stranger that you might not say to anyone else.  Sterek-ish ambiguity at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever else is unsure…

Claudia had bundled herself against the bite of a very cold January day, but Stiles refused to be trapped under layer after layer, topped off with mittens and a scarf. As fast as his mother got one piece on, he pulled another one off.

"Stiles! Stand still and let me- Where is your father?" she complained, very much in need of an extra pair of hands.

"Can I help?" came a warm voice from beside her.

"Melissa? Oh! I'm sorry, I –" she broke off as she looked up at the stranger.

"He looks like a handful," said a tall woman with long black hair, her smile tight but kind.

"That's putting it mildly," Claudia agreed, smiling back wearily.

Stiles was now three steps ahead of her in removing articles of clothing.

The tall woman gripped Stiles firmly by the shoulders and stared him in the eyes.

"Now, we're going to dress warmly today, aren't we?"

Stiles stood still, and Claudia got his mittens back on and the scarf around his neck.

"He seems fearless," the woman added, and zipped up Stiles' parka deftly.

"You clearly have a few kids," Claudia said, grateful and impressed.

"I have more than a few, but a boy is always a handful."

"I’m Claudia. Stilinski."

"Talia."

Stiles, now largely immobilized by his outerwear, was watching Talia intently.

"I'm very grateful for the help," Claudia responded. "Stiles is always heading straight into trouble, and usually without a jacket. I try to protect him, but-"

"We all try to protect them. My son's older than yours, but he still needs protecting."

A horn honked, and the Sheriff waved as he got out.

"I see protection is the family business," Talia said.

"My husband," Claudia explained and waved back.

"Watch out," Talia warned, and pointed at Stiles, already wobbling toward his father along the edge of the pond.

“She made her eyes glow,” Stiles said as his father picked him up.

“Mama did that?” the Sheriff asked, half joking.

“No, the other lady.”

 

❊❊❊

 

Claudia sat on the bench by the pond, alone. _How do I tell Stiles? Let him figure it out? That'll take him exactly ten seconds._

She shivered as the shock of the diagnosis returned and her heart raced. She noticed a familiar woman approaching quickly, looking around the park from time to time. Claudia waved briefly when she realized it was the woman from a few years earlier.

Talia came toward her, stopping to look around one last time, then gave Claudia a concerned look.

“How are you?” she asked as casually as possible, knowing full well what was happening to Claudia. The biochemistry of disease and fear produced strong and distinctive scents.

Claudia’s face twisted slightly at the question, and she looked down.

“Not as good as I should be,” she said, wanting to share more with this woman she’d met once before - a mother like her was what she recalled first, but not her name.

Talia sat down next to her.

“Tell me.” It was direct, and sincere.

“The doctors don’t know, really. A brain thing. Bad.”

Talia waited.

Claudia needed to let go, and it came in a blur of words and tears.

Talia took Claudia’s hands and removed some of the pain that had built up in her. Claudia noticed the thin lines tracing up Talia’s arms, but as hallucinations went, it was one she could overlook. There were far worse ones, especially at night.

“Your son…?” Talia asked.

“His name is- he likes to be called Stiles."

“Tell Stiles. It won’t be easy, but tell him. All of it.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“They lose us and we lose them.”

“Would you tell your son?”

"He knows life has risks.  He knows people fear the unknown and try to hunt it down.”

Claudia looked up at Talia’s face, stern and brave.

“Will Stiles be all right?”

“We can only hope our children understand what we want for them.”

“Your son-“

“Derek.”

“He must be in high school by now?”

“He plays basketball. Thinks he’s invincible. Turns to his uncle for advice, which is a habit I can’t break him of.”

“Is your husband-?”

“Gone.”

Claudia was calmer now. She wasn’t sure if it was just telling someone, or talking about Stiles, or the comfort of Talia's warmth.

“Beacon Hills is a strange place,” she said.

“We keep it safe. We raise our kids to do the same.” Talia paused. “I can ask my son to keep an eye out.”

“Oh, no, really, I-“

“Mother to mother.”

Talia’s eyes moved from Claudia’s face to stare intently at the distance.

“Take care, Claudia.”

“Thank you-“ and still she couldn’t recall the name of the woman now walking toward a man by the trees at the edge of the park.

Soon she was alone again, and fear crept back in. She stood up quickly to shake it off, then went home to talk to Stiles.

 

❊❊❊

 

Scott was at Derek’s loft and not entirely surprised to find Stiles there again. They discussed Derek's research on Parrish and Stiles’ observations from the station. Night came before they knew it.

"I gotta go get my Mom a Mother’s Day card,” Scott said.

He instantly regretted this, looking apologetically from Stiles to Derek and back.

“Bring it by so I can sign it,” Stiles said, seeing Scott’s unease.

“You wanna come with me?” Scott asked both of them, but Stiles quickly declined.

“No, thanks, I’ll sign it at school tomorrow. Gotta get home too.”

“Um, okay,” Scott said, as Stiles sat unmoving on Derek's desk.

***

“Happy Mother’s Day to you too,” Stiles said, watching Derek’s eyebrows tighten. “Tell me about Talia.”

Derek stared at him- a long, intense look, full of amazement at the things that fell from his lips.

“If you tell me about Claudia.”

“Well, I called her Momma when I was little.”

“That’s a start,” Derek said, in a tone that left Stiles off balance.

"Your turn."

 

**Author's Note:**

> “Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.”
> 
> ― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man


End file.
